heads. The counsel is a hard-featured, sharp, close, shrewd, and
long-headed looking individual, attired in his horsehair wig, and
festooned around with the sweets of his profession--_Affidavits_,
_Subpoenæ_, _Perjuries_, _Bankrupts enlarged_, '_Wills made on the
shortest notice_,' _Writs of Error_, _Clausum Friget_, _Bills of
Costs_, _Declarations_, _Actions between John Doe and Richard Roe_,
_Warrants for assaults_, _Habeas Corpus_, _Suits in Chancery_, _Lists
of Informations_, _Quirks_, _Quibbles_, _Briefs_, _Title-deeds_,
_Statutes at large_, bags of _causes_, ponderous legal volumes; the
emblemata are significantly supported by a well-filled brief bag,
plethoric with 'cash received on clients' accounts, not paid over.'
1800. _A Peep into Bethlehem._
Ah! then dismounted from his spavin'd hack,
To Bethlehem's walls, with Burke, I saw him borne,
There the straight waistcoat close embrac'd his back:
While Peggy's wreath of straw did either brow adorn,
And there they sit, two grinners, _vis-a-vis_;
He writing Grub Street verse, Burke ranting rhapsody.
_Vide Melancholy Catastrophe_, _by_ PETER FIG, Esq.
The bard Peter Pindar is leaning his elbows on a sheet of verses lately
commenced, 'An Ode to Paine,' his poems the 'Lousiad,' 'Pension,' 'Ode
upon Ode,' &c., are scattered on the ground. Burke, with a shaven
head, and wearing a rosary round his neck, is declaiming impassioned
eloquence, while his foot is trampling upon two volumes, the 'Rights of
Man,' and 'Common Sense,' with Peter Pindar's 'Ode upon Ode.'
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 1, A Publican._ Woodward del. Etched
by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The parlour of a
country public-house, hung round with pictures on equestrian subjects,
after the manner of the inimitable gallery of Professor Gambado: _Horse
Accomplishments_, introducing such peculiarities as _An Astronomer, or
Star-gazing Steed_; _An Arithmetician_, where the animal is working out
problems with his nose on the ground; _A Loiterer_, where the horse
pauses to ruminate, &c. The publican is drinking in true old-fashioned
landlordlike style with the squire, a Tony Lumkin of a landed
proprietor; mine host wears a red nightcap, and clean white sleeves,
apron, and stockings. Tony Lumkin has been trying to palm off an old
story on his friend, but the landlord's experience is too much for him.
'Come, squire,' he cries, 'that won't do; that's Joe Miller, I'm sure,
page 490.'
_Country Characters. No. 2, A Justice._ Woodward del. Etched by
Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
_Country Characters. No. 3, A Barber._ Woodward del., Rowlandson
sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A stout gentleman,
divested of his wig, has sat down for the tonsorial process, holding
in his lap the _London Gazette Newspaper_; the village Figaro, a
highly-dried and austere personage, of marked political proclivities,
has fixed his melancholy eyes on the latest intelligence, while, not
to waste time, he is pursuing the operation of shaving his unhappy
victim; simultaneously the edge of his razor-blade is taking an upward
tendency, and his right hand is sawing away at the sitter's olfactory
organ, while his left holds that important member immoveable. 'They
write from Amsterdam,' reads the preoccupied barber; while the
gentleman in the seat of torture, writhing with pain and apprehension,
vehemently shouts: 'Halloh! you sir,--what, are you going to cut my
nose off?'
The remainder of the series does not require a more particular
description.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 4, Footman._ Woodward del. Etched by
Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 5, Tax-gatherer._ Woodward del.
Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 6, Squire._ Woodward del. Etched by
Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 7, Vicar._ Woodward del. Etched by
Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 8, Doctor._ Woodward del. Etched by
Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 9, Exciseman._ Woodward del. Etched
by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 10, Steward._ Woodward del. Etched
by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 11, Attorney._ Woodward del. Etched
by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800 (?). _Country Characters. No. 12, London Outrider, or Brother
Saddle-bag._ Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 1, _The Dinner Spoil'd._ G. M.
Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101
Strand.--A family party sitting down to the diurnal repast. The head
of the house is an ill-favoured person, of advanced age and wearing
a tremendous wig. Before him is a leg of mutton, and, knife and fork
in hand, he is considering the joint with the eye of disfavour. 'It's
red!' he grumbles, 'not fit to eat!--these are the blessed effects
of boiling mutton in a cloth!' His wife is regarding the dinner with
consternation; one son is opening his eyes, and 'making a mouth'
apprehensive of losing his dinner; another youth bears a look of
absolute dejection; the family circle is completed by the addition of a
queer poodle, seated on his hind legs, and wearing a disappointed look,
like the rest of the diners. An appropriate pair of figures, _Peace_
and _Concord_, are hung on the wall by way of pictures.
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 2, _Late Hours_. Woodward del. Etched
by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 3, _An Anonymous Letter_. Woodward
del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 4, _A Return from a Walk_. Woodward
del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A
venerable and somewhat decrepit spouse has been for a 'constitutional.'
On his return he is gratified with the discovery of a very interesting
domestic tableau: his young and pretty wife is fast asleep on the
knee of a dashing officer, who, seated on the family sofa, is also
slumbering blissfully, with one arm round the waist of the faithless
wife, while his hand is clasping that of the lady, one of whose arms
tenderly encircles the neck of her martial admirer. The rash intruder
on this scene, with good reason, is much shocked at the situation, and
is exclaiming in dismay, 'My wife! as sure as I am a haberdasher.'
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 5, _Killing with Kindness_. Woodward
del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The
victim to ill-directed matrimonial attentions is a stout countrified
old gentleman; he is seated in his arm-chair, very much at the mercy
of two fair and youthful tormentors, whose exertions on his behalf
are probably _not_ disinterested. The wife, a very stylish damsel,
seemingly young enough to be the daughter of her embarrassed spouse, is
leaning on his chair and pressing him to partake of a dish of fruit,
and insisting, 'You must have some apricots, my love!' while her
sister, patting the husband affectionately on the shoulder, is forcing
a bunch of grapes into his mouth, which he has incautiously opened, to
express his dissent: 'Just take these grapes, brother-in-law, you never
eat finer!' The old gentleman, who shrewdly values this devotion at its
worth, is crying: 'I wo'nt eat anything more, I tell you--I shall be
choked--got an eye to the estate, I suppose!'
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 6, _A Fashionable Suit_. Woodward
del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The
tailor, with measuring-tape on shoulder and shears in pocket, has
brought home a new suit, into which an ill-made and clumsy-looking
personage has, with some difficulty, managed to thrust his limbs.
The coat is that very unbecoming garment, fashionable at the date
of the etching, and known as a _Jean de Brie_--a close-fitting,
swallow-tailed garment, with a hump-like high collar, and sleeves
tight to the shoulders, which were distended by a gouty puff, giving a
generally distorted appearance to the back of the wearer. The victim
is contemplating his uncomfortable suit in a looking-glass held by
the tailor, who is dismayed at the indignant protest of his client:
'Why, you have put me a hump upon each shoulder, and here's a pair of
Dutchman's breeches that would hold provision for a marching regiment;
well, I tell you what, Master Tailor, d---- me if I would go to our
club such a figure for fifty pounds!' The snip is assuring him in
reply: 'Made entirely to your lady's orders, your Honour, I assure
you she said now you was married you should look like the rest of the
world.'
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 7, _Washing Day_. Woodward del.
Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A stout
and comfortable-looking gentleman, whose features wear a very sulky and
discontented expression, is giving one hand to a cheerful old 'chum'
from the country, and pointing with the disengaged hand to two stout
wenches deep in the washing-tubs: 'Ah! my old friend,' cries the host
to the traveller, 'I wish you had called at some more convenient time,
but this is washing day--I have nothing to give you but cold fish, cold
tripe, and cold potatoes, you may smell soapsuds a mile! Ah Jack! Jack!
you don't know these Comforts! You are a bachelor!'
1800. _Matrimonial Comforts._ No. 8, _A Curtain Lecture_. Woodward
del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The
bedchamber of a couple who seem to disagree. The clock points to 'five
o'clock in the morning,' and the husband, night-cap on head, and his
face bearing an expression of injured martyrdom, has clasped his hands
in despair of obtaining rest from the energetic denunciations of his
wife, who, leaning over him in a commanding attitude, is pouring forth
her 'Caudle-like' remonstrances over the prostrate sufferer: 'Yes, you
base man, you; don't you eat, drink, and sleep comfortably at home? and
still you must be jaunting abroad every night. I'll find out all your
intrigues, you may depend on it.'
1800 (?). _Preparation for the Academy, Old Joseph Nollekens and
his Venus._--John Thomas Smith, many years Keeper of the prints and
drawings in the British Museum, and better known by his works on
metropolitan antiquities, to which he furnished etchings, as well as
archæological researches, has left us one of the chattiest and most
eccentric biographies to be found in the annals of literature--the
_Life of the Sculptor Nollekens_, whose pupil he was. Much as we are
indebted to 'Antiquity Smith' for the whimsical anecdotes he has
imported into his unequivocally entertaining pair of volumes, which
touch freely upon contemporary men and things under their most familiar
and every-day aspect, we cannot fail to feel a passing regret that
the versatile keeper has forgotten to make any anecdotal mention of
his friend Rowlandson, with whom he was on terms of cordiality. The
caricaturist had presented, at times, some of his most interesting
drawings to 'his old friend John Thomas Smith,' as he has taken care
to inscribe on the margins, with his autograph; the best of these
is possibly, _Drawing from the Life-School at the Royal Academy_--a
subject upon which both the humourists were well informed, since they
had worked there as students, and were more or less acquainted with
all the artists of the day, and, moreover, it being impossible to
overlook such points, with their keen sense of the eccentric; they had
noted--the one with his pencil, and the other with his pen--all the
striking peculiarities, personal or professional, of their numerous
associates. The latest portrait the present writer has seen of our
artist is one drawn with a pen in outline and tinted with Indian ink
by the worthy keeper, one day when the caricaturist was visiting the
Print Room of the British Museum, Rowlandson being, at that time, well
advanced in years. The sketch is that of a large and decisive-looking
elderly gentleman, with a bald head, firmly-cut features, and wearing
big old-fashioned spectacles; this portrait was taken while the subject
was stooping to examine a drawing. Beneath it John Thomas Smith has
inscribed the particulars under which he came to draw the portrait of
'his old friend.'
The grave omission with which we have to charge Nollekens' biographer,
usually so amazingly fertile in individualistic traits of everyone he
knew--and he seems to have been fairly acquainted with, or to have
something amusing to impart about, nearly everybody of any note--in
respect to the caricaturist, of whom his writings make no sort of
mention, is the more to be regretted, since it was probably a sly hint
imparted by 'Antiquity Smith' which produced the picture of the gifted
old miser at work on one of his cherished subjects--a whimsical study,
doubtless founded on a special visit of observation, instituted, with
Nollekens' old pupil, for the very purpose. As regards the sculptor's
portrait, which is seemingly caricatured, John Thomas Smith comes in
as aptly with his description[1] as if the two sittings had taken
place simultaneously, and the biographer and artist had worked _en
collaboration_:--'His figure was short, his head big, and it appeared
much increased by a large-crowned hat, of which he was very fond. His
neck was short, his shoulders narrow, his body too large, particularly
in the front lower part; he was bow-legged and hook-nosed; indeed,
his leg was somewhat like his nose, which resembled the rudder of an
Antwerp packet-boat; his lips were rather thin, but between his brows
there was great evidence of study.'
[Illustration: PREPARATIONS FOR THE ACADEMY. OLD JOSEPH NOLLEKENS AND
HIS VENUS.]
As to 'his Venuses' Mrs. Nollekens invariably continued to express
the most derogatory opinions, since she regarded his fair models
as 'abandoned huzzies, with whom she had no patience,' regarding
her eccentric spouse as quite on their level, for she cherished the
extraordinary conviction that after his marriage he ought to have
'dispensed with such people.' While Mrs. Nollekens was unduly mindful
of her husband's favourite models, it seems these ladies, under altered
circumstances, occasionally amused themselves by reminding the sculptor
of their former acquaintance, on which pleasant fact his biographer
does not fail to enlarge, in more than one instance:--
'Our sculptor would sometimes amuse himself, on a summer's evening,
by standing with his arms behind him at the yard-gate, which opened
into Titchfield Street. During one of these indulgences, as a lady was
passing, most elegantly dressed, attended by a strapping footman in
silver-laced livery, with a tall gilt-headed cane, she nodded to him,
and, smiling, asked him if he did not know her. On his reply that he
did not recollect her, "What, sir!" exclaimed she, "do you forget Miss
Coleman, who brought a letter to you from Charles Townley, to compare
limbs with your Venus? Why, I have been with you twenty times in that
little room, to stand for your Venus." "Oh! _lawk-a-daisy_, so you
have!" answered Nollekens. "Why, what a fine woman you're grown! Come,
walk in, and I'll show you your figure--I have done it in marble."
After desiring the man to stop at the gate she went in with him; and
upon seeing Mrs. Nollekens at the parlour-window, who was pretending
to talk to and feed her sister's bullfinch, but who had been informed
by the vigilant Bronze (the eccentric maid-servant of this odd pair)
of what had been going on at the gate, she went up to her and said,
"Madam, I have to thank----." Mrs. Nollekens then elevated herself on
her toes, and, with a lisping palpitation, began to address the lady.
"Oh, dear," observed Miss Coleman, "and you don't know me! You have
given me many a basin of broth in the depth of winter, when I used
to stand for Venus." Mrs. Nollekens, not knowing what to think of
Joseph, shook her head at him as she slammed the window, at the same
time exclaiming, "Oh, fie! Mr. Nollekens! Fie! fie!" Bronze assured me
that when her master went into the front parlour he had a pretty warm
reception. "What!" said her mistress, "to know such wretches after you
have done with them in your studio!"'
In Rowlandson's picture the sculptor is actually at work on a Venus and
Cupid; one of his most successful models.[2]
1800. _Rainbow Tavern, in Fleet Street, in 1800._
1800. _Remarks on a Tour to North and South Wales in the year 1797_,
by Henry Wigstead, with plates from Rowlandson, Pugh, Howitt, &c.
(Aquatinted by J. Hill.) London: Published by W. Wigstead, 40 Charing
Cross. 8vo.--The particulars of the tour undertaken under these
auspices are thus briefly set forth by one of the travellers:--
'The romantic and picturesque scenery of North and South Wales,
having within these few years been considered highly noticeable and
attractive, I was induced to visit this Principality with my friend Mr.
Rowlandson, whose abilities as an artist need no eulogium from me. We
left London in August 1797, highly expectant of gratification: nor were
our highest hopes in the least frustrated.
'At the time of our excursion I had no idea of submitting to the public
any of our minutes or sketches; but, as several of the subjects amongst
our scenery have become topics of admiration, as well to the artist
as cursory traveller, I have in the following sheets endeavoured to
give a faint idea of their beauties; accompanied by some short remarks
on the road, merely intended as a sort of _vade mecum_ to stimulate
the readers to further and more important enquiries; and in order, if
possible, that they may, by being apprised of many inconveniences we
experienced, be enabled to avoid them.'
_Plates._
Coventry, with a view of the effigy of Peeping Tom, and the King's
Head. By T. Rowlandson.
Wolverhampton. The Market, Bevan's Toy Shop, and the Church. By T.
Rowlandson.
Langollen.
The King's Apartments, Conway Castle.
Penmanmawr. H. Wigstead, _del._
Caernarvon.
Snowdon, from Llanberris Lake. H. Wigstead, _del._
Speaking of the natives of Llanberris, Wigstead describes them in such
picturesque terms that we are tempted to quote the paragraph:--
'The people here are really almost in a state of simple nature. The
value of money is scarcely known; they pay the rent of their premises
in cattle generally, which they breed on their land. Flesh is scarce
ever tasted by them; and, except when visitors leave behind remnants of
wine, ale, &c., milk is the principal beverage that passes their lips.
They are remarkably observant of any decorations worn by ladies, such
as beads, laces, and feathers, which strengthened my opinion of their
similitude with the Otaheiteans, &c. These they admire, and handle with
a sort of rudeness bordering on savage manners, likely to raise alarm
in the breast of the fair wearer.'
Nantz Mill and Bethgellert. By T. Rowlandson.
Pont Aberglasslyn. By H. Wigstead.
Festiniog. By T. Rowlandson.
A Welsh Landlady (fac-similed from the original drawing). By H.
Wigstead.
Waterfall near Dolghelly.
Aberystwith.
Cardigan. T. Rowlandson, _del._
Inside of a Kitchen at Newcastle (near Carmarthen). By T.
Rowlandson.
The latter subject pictures forth a capital interior, in Rowlandson's
own graphic manner. A turnspit is represented in his wheel, with the
chain attached to the spit, for roasting the joint before the fire. It
is reasonable that these poor creatures, tired of the squirrel-like
performance, should have welcomed the mechanical contrivance of the
roasting-jack.[3] The tourist describes one difficulty the epicure
encountered under the ancient state of things:--'_Newcastle_ is a
pleasant village; a decent inn here; a dog is employed as turnspit.
Great care is taken that the animal does not observe the cook approach
the larder; if he does he immediately hides himself for the remainder
of the day, and the guest must be satisfied with more humble fare than
intended.'
Swansea. By T. Rowlandson.
Cardiff Castle. By T. Rowlandson.
Caerphilly Castle. By T. Rowlandson.
The Hanging Tower at Caerphilly. By H. Wigstead.
The Union of the Wye with the Severn, from Chepstow.
Tintern Abbey.
Raglan Castle. By T. Rowlandson.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Life of Nollekens_, vol. i. p. 79.
[2] _Venus Chiding Cupid_, executed for Lord Yarborough. 'Nollekens was
so provoked by an accident which happened to one of his figures during
the Exhibition at Somerset House, that he threatened F. M. Newton, the
Secretary, who made light of the affair, should this Venus be in any
way injured, to break every bone in his skin.'--_Nollekens and his
Times_, by John Thomas Smith.
[3] 'The mode of teaching turnspits their business was more summary
than humane. The dog was put in a wheel, and a burning coal with him;
he could not stop without burning his legs, and so was kept on the full
gallop. These dogs were by no means fond of their profession; it was
indeed hard work to them in a wheel for two or three hours, turning
a piece of meat which was twice their own weight. It is recorded of
the turnspit-dogs of Bath that one Sunday, when they had, as usual,
followed their mistresses to church, the lesson of the day happened
to be that chapter of Ezekiel wherein the self-moving chariots are
described. When the first word "wheel" was pronounced all the curs
pricked up their ears in alarm; at the second "wheel" they set up a
doleful howl; and when the dreaded word was uttered a third time every
one of them scampered out of church as fast as he could, with his tail
between his legs.'--John Foster, in Hone's _Everyday Book_, December
17, 1826.
1801.
_January 1, 1801._ _The Epicure._ Published by S. W. Fores. (_See_
1788.)
_January 1, 1801._ _A Money Scrivener._ (Companion to _A Counsellor_.)
S. W. Fores, 50 Piccadilly.--The scrivener inhabits a poor, squalid
office; his clerk is perched on a high stool by the window. The worthy
wears a nightcap, and has a quill behind his ear; he is poring over a
ledger at a tumbledown desk; one finger on his nose illustrates his
absorption in some weighty deliberation. Files of accounts and boxes of
deeds and papers form the rest of the scrivener's surroundings.
_January 1, 1801._ _A Counsellor._ Published by S. W. Fores, 50
Piccadilly.
[Illustration: A COUNSELLOR.]
_January 1801._ _The Union._ Published by Ackermann.--Pitt, a burlesque
St. George, clad in armour, is seated on the British bull, who is
horn-locked, nose to nose, snorting forth challenges in the face of the
furious Irish bull, on which is mounted St. Patrick, with mitre and
crozier. The national Irish saint, whose beard gives him the expression
of a Jew, is crying, ''Pon my conscience I don't know what you call it,
but the deuce of anything like a Union do I see, except their horns
being fastened together.' Pitt replies, 'Never fear, St. Patrick; all
will be yet very well; they are a little restive at first, but they
will take to it kindly enough by and by, I'll warrant you.'
_January 1, 1801._ _A Jew Broker._ Published by S. W. Fores, 50
Piccadilly.--Shylock, with his bond in the pocket of his gaberdine and
his crutch-stick under his arm, is abstractedly polishing his glasses,
although his watchful eyes are sharp enough without any artificial
assistance, as he stands at the corner of Duke's Place, then the
accepted rallying-point of his tribe. His face expresses a profoundly
baffled emotion, which is portrayed with a masterly hand. He is musing,
in abject despair, over a chance lost, a bargain missed, a gain which
has slipped through his prehensile fingers. Some Antonio of our modern
Venice founded on the shores of the Thames has escaped his toils; some
point of law, a flaw in the indentures, mayhap, has been turned to
account by a later 'Daniel come to judgment--a wise young judge,' to
whom the disconcerted Hebrew is finally loth to offer his gratitude. He
seemingly mumbles, with the pertinacity of Shylock:--
My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
[Illustration: A JEW BROKER.]